The Devil, the Devil I tell you!

I know I’m not the first person to bitch about this:

Writing a synopsis (especially a one pager for a 110,000 word novel) is an impossible task specifically created by the devil.  In order to drive me to the brink of insanity.

The devil!

I don’t have a problem giving away the ending.  And I want you to critique me mystery critiquer, I do.  But I’m WORDY and I’ve only just introduced you to my main character and half a page is already gone.

First paragraph:

When 17-year-old Rosemary O’Connor moves from boarding school in Southern India to a new life in the Midwestern United States with her part-time parents, she is determined to keep her head down, bide her time, and get out as soon as she can.  Rosie’s game plan involves keeping new relationships to a minimum, making no waves at school, and avoiding conflict on the home front.  A game plan which fails miserably.

It’s okay, it’s not rock solid.  I did some research online and a few people suggested movie backs & book jackets for inspiration.  I hit up Netflix, but all that did was make me want to watch dramatic British indie films and drink beer instead of writing.

Paragraph the second:

Rosie was born in Ireland but immigrated to Canada before she could pick up an accent.  At twelve her family moved to India. The time she spent in Kodaikanal, the remote hill station that was her home for 3 years, was pivotal in the development her personality and of her moral compass – in which she takes great pride. Rosie’s one friend at school is another newbie named Sarah. The girls are different in almost every way.  Because of her experiences in India, Rosemary strives to rise above typical teen attitudes, but also struggles with them – because she is a teenager.  Sarah is indulgent, thoughtless, self-involved & easy.  But she loves Rosemary and proves to be a true friend to her.

UGH.

From there it deteriorates into character descriptions that sound like poor attempts at one line hooks.

It shouldn’t be this hard to summarize.  It’s mine – I wrote it.  I know the characters, I know what happens to them.  Why can’t I tell you about it?

For tonight, I blame the devil.  And laziness.  And Netflix.  And thirst.  But mostly the devil.

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